Claustrophobia
by QueenLydia
Summary: Pietro doesn't like small spaces.


"I'm gonna get you for that, you little maniac!"

"Oh, come on Lance! Take a joke!" Pietro shot back over his shoulder, pausing in his sprint for just a second- Lance, of course, was still running around upstairs. The greatest thing about the Brotherhood house, Pietro was quickly discovering, was that anytime he wanted to get away from someone- which was often, considering his new housemates didn't all exactly seem find of his limitless energy- there was always plenty of space to run. Even though he'd only been living with the Brotherhood for a few weeks, he already liked to brag that he knew the whole house inside and out.

"You wanna come back and face me like a man?" called Lance, appearing at the top of the stairs. Crouching in the doorway to the living room Toad watched on eagerly, while behind him Fred was engrossed in one of his mindless television programs. Rogue, as per usual, had barricaded herself in her room- Pietro had figured out pretty early on that she wasn't exactly the welcoming type.

Pietro smirked up at him, hands on his hips. "What's the matter, Avalanche? Don't think you can keep up with me?"

Lance stomped down the stairs, glowering. "_**You. Touched. My. Guitar**_."

"Oh, come on! I didn't smash it! I just wanted to take a look-"

"You keep your sticky, speedy paws off my stuff!"

Pietro narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "Is that a challenge?"

"That's _it_!" Lance thundered, making a fast grab for Pietro that was still lightyears too slow for the speedster. Toad obligingly ducked out of the way as Pietro zipped past him into the living room, going for the first door he saw- a door that he was positive led into another hallway.

He was wrong.

Instead, Pietro found himself in a dark, small space, stiflingly hot and crowded with coats and shoes. He had literally run straight into a closet.

Before he could run out, however, the door suddenly slammed shut in his face, leaving him in total darkness. "Idiot!" he heard Lance laugh from behind the door, and Pietro's eyes narrowed as he tried the doorknob and found that it wouldn't budge.

"Alright, real funny Lance," he grumbled. "Now let me out!"

"I don't know," Lance's voice drawled, and Pietro could almost see him out there- facing the door, his arms crossed, a wicked little smirk on his face. it made his blood boil. "Maybe you should stay in there a bit. Teach you not to go through other people's things."

Pietro felt restless. He really, really hated enclosed spaces. His mutation ensured that, aside from when he was sleeping, he always had to be in motion. The thought of being confined in this closet for however long Lance deemed fit seemed like a nightmare to him. "Come _on_, Lance," he urged, keeping his voice steady- and annoyed. "Open the door."

"No," replied Lance, and Pietro could tell that he was enjoying this. "Actually, I think I'm gonna go for a run. Blob, Toad, coming?"

"Why not?" came Toad's voice, followed by a tiny snicker. "Been meanin' to stretch my legs!"

"You think Pietro will be fine here alone?" a third voice asked, and Pietro could have groaned. Even _Blob _was getting in on it now.

"He'll be okay," Lance replied, and it sounded like his voice was getting farther away. Alarm bells rang out in Pietro's head as he pounded on the door with his fists.

"No, Lance- Lance! Come on! You gotta let me out of here! Let me out! Lance! I've gotta- I've gotta-" Pietro's breathing was becoming ragged as he could no longer ignore the sensation of the walls beginning to close in on him. It seemed to Pietro that all the air was quickly being sucked from the room as the closet began to grow smaller and smaller around him, trapping him in the coat-crowded prison. He could hardly breathe; even the jail cell hadn't been as awful as this.

His body felt like it was vibrating, every limb charged and pulsing with a thousands of volts of uncontrollable energy. His fists pounded against the door in such a flurry of movement that even he could barely register it; he could feel himself bouncing off the walls, those too small walls, and he was still screaming.

"Let me out! Lance! Toad! Please! Please let me out, I'm sorry, I-" He couldn't breathe.

"Yo, Lance, maybe we should let him out." it was Toad's voice, uncertain and hesitant, and Pietro felt his shouts increase in both volume and speed.

"He's fine. He deserves it, anyway." The walls were pressing up against him, squeezing the life out of him, and he couldn't draw any air into his lungs. He couldn't move! He tried screaming again- for Lance, for his father, for Wanda, anyone- but his lungs were empty and they were burning.

"Pietro!" Tiny fists pounded at the wooden door, and over his own sobs Pietro could hear his twin sister screaming his name.

"Wanda!" he wailed back, burying his head in his knees even as his body urged him to do nothing but move, even as the walls closed in around him. He was so, so scared, and all he wanted to do was _run_- but he couldn't.

"Daddy, let him out!" he could hear Wanda shriek from the other side of the door, and he could see a blue glow coming from under the doorframe. "Let him out right now!"

"Wanda!" he shouted again, because he didn't want her to hurt their father- she almost did that sometimes, even without really meaning to.

It was Toad's voice that dragged him back to reality. "Lance! The guy annoys me just as much as any of us, but this is enough. Let him go!"

That wasn't real anymore. Wanda wasn't there. She probably never would be there. He was alone. And he was... crying? That wasn't right at all. He didn't cry. He was Pietro Maximoff, and he was _always in control _of himself. He did _not _cry.

Get a hold of yourself, Maximoff, he urged, forcing air into his lungs. Outside the door he could hear Lance reply to Toad's urging with a resounding negative that felt like a death sentence to Pietro. He grit his teeth and clenched his fists, forcing himself to remain silent and in control.

"I can't even hear him anymore, yo!" Toad exclaimed, and Pietro thought he heard the doorknob jiggling. "Let him out."

"He's probably fine," Lance started to reply, his voice at last beginning to sound a deal more uncertain, but he was suddenly cut off by none other than Toad, whose voice reached a level of authority that Pietro had never previously even considered him capable of when he commanded, "Let him _go_."

And just like that, almost as if a curse were lifted, the door suddenly swung open. As a sudden bright light filled the closet Pietro hastily scrambled off of the floor, swiping at his eyes and cheeks with his sleeves. Lance, Fred, and Toad stood clustered around the closet door, but when they caught sight of Pietro they each took a step back, eyes wide.

Inside, Pietro was burning. How dare these- these punk kids, these utter idiots, think they can reduce him to nothing more than a sobbing child? How dare he allow them to? Summoning as much dignity as he could muster, Pietro leveled a hard glare at his "teammates" and only hoped that he looked half as fearsome as he felt inside as he stepped out of the closet.

He was the first one to speak. "What the hell was that?" he demanded angrily, looking to each of the other boys in turn. "Are you all insane?"

"Dude," Lance began, at least having the decency to look quite ashamed now. "I swear we didn't know you were claustrophobic-"

"I'm not!" interjected Pietro sharply, narrowing his eyes. "But I swear to god Alvers- _any _of you- if you ever pull a stunt like that again you'll regret it 'till the day you die."

He didn't wait for anyone's reply. He stormed upstairs and slammed his bedroom door shut behind him. There was now ay he was going to let the rest of them see as, as soon as he was alone, he curled up on his bed and buried his face into his pillow, mentally blocking off the barrage of tears that threatened to pour out of him until at least he felt that he could breathe once more without the risk of losing it all together. After all, he was Pietro Maximoff, and he _never _lost it- even for closets.

**AN: I don't own Evo. I just love torturing Pietro. This is one of those little "getting to know you" bits that I imagine had to have happened during at least some point in the first season, because there's no way that all the Brotherhood took to each other immediately at first- especially Pietro.**

**And yes, I do headcanon that Magneto used to use unconventional punishments, cuz he would.**


End file.
